Illusion
by KelliP
Summary: His eyes slam shut against the onslaught of it all. He can't stop thinking about everything they've lost. Everything they never had.


This started out as something completely different. I have no idea how it got to this point. I had a good day, though, so it was only natural I wrote something a little bit darker. Go figure.

* * *

**Illusion**

* * *

Shaking fingers reach for her, the plea of her name burning on his tongue.

"Kate - "

She shrugs the bare skin of her shoulder away from his touch and clutches the strap of her handbag tight.

"Don't, Castle," she rasps, voice dragging low with the weight of the day. "Don't tell me everything will be okay."

He swallows hard and closes his eyes. He can't tell her that. Nothing is okay.

"The loft is empty," he says instead. Come home with him. Please.

There's a long beat and for a moment, he thinks she's going to run and hide. Hole up in her apartment without him or get lost in a case. But then she nods just once, follows it up with a step away from the hospital towering behind them.

A step toward him.

He takes her cold hand in his, and they go home together.

* * *

He finds her in his bed.

She's curled up on her side, her back to where he usually lays. Her knees are tucked tight against her chest, one hand gripping their caps as her body curls in on itself. Her slender frame is swallowed by his oversized navy button-down she wears, lost in the heavy crumple of blankets she lays upon.

She's silent, but he knows she isn't sleeping. Her breathing is too jagged, too raw, her shoulders shaking just a little with each exhalation. Deep inside his chest, his heart begins to bleed. She looks so tiny; so fragile. All he wants is to heal the hurt he knows is aching deep in her heart but he can't even put a patch on his own.

"I made you some soup," he murmurs.

She efforts little more than a soft hum. "Not hungry."

Castle bites at the heavy sigh closing over in his throat but doesn't push the subject. Not when he can't stomach anything either. Instead he forces sluggish feet forward, the soles of his bare feet scuffing against the chill of the hardwood as he pads around to where she lays, to deposit the warm bowl on the table beside her – just in case.

It's almost set down when it slips from his fingers, the ceramic shattering into thousands of shards across his bedroom floor as his eyes catch sight of what's clenched in her pale hands.

The white plastic stick that reads _positive_.

* * *

He doesn't know how to make this better.

Doesn't know whether he_ can_ make this better.

The blinds are drawn shut now, blocking out the too-bright sunshine that had drenched the room. They both crave the darkness, the solitude of his room, tucked away from the world that somehow keeps living.

Back supported by the headboard he sits beside her as she shakes gently and tries not to crumble. He fights the desperate need for her proximity, fights the need for the warmth of her body pressed against his. He doesn't know whether she can take it. She's still curled along the edge of the too-wide mattress, fighting this alone. Fighting him. He holds onto her presence in his home and cards gentle fingers through her knotting curls and hopes it's enough.

It's not enough for him.

The week plays over in his mind, the echoes of everything that could have been haunting, like something from a nightmare.

The panic etched upon her face of whether they could do this. The joy when he silenced her with his lips on hers because of _course_ they could. All their plans – a new home with a nursery, the stuffed animal the little one wouldn't be able to part with, family names to carry on and new ones to begin.

His eyes slam shut against the onslaught of it all.

She'd thought the baby would be the thing that would tear them apart.

But this –

Oh. This is so much worse.

Because he can't stop thinking about everything they've lost.

Everything they never had.

* * *

He falls asleep.

He doesn't know how or when but the room is still blanketed in darkness when he jolts awake. His chest seizes, muscles paralysed. It's a sharp breath of air before the edges of the room stop dancing in and out of focus. He blinks furiously, head still swimming with those last foggy remnants of a reckless slumber. When he scrubs his face hard with the heels of his hand he realises he's drenched in a cold sweat.

Then he hears her quiet sobs.

Face buried in the pillow the sounds muffle rather than carry, but the deep notes vibrate across the sheet, hit his aching body hard to split open fresh wounds. He rolls and pushes up on one elbow, his weight hovering at her back as he leans over her. One trembling hand skirts up her arm to hook around her shoulder, its grip tight as she tries to shake him off.

"Kate." Her name chokes on his tongue, voice coarse, because _God_ – her armour up or shattered, he needs her too. "Kate, please." Please.

The dam breaks. She gives in. Her slender body twists, seeks out the broad curve of his. An open palm comes to rest along his unshaven jawline, thin fingers pleading as they scratch gently at his skin while her other hand still clenches around the mocking pregnancy test. His own fingers cover hers and pry, desperate to forget.

"Kate."

She fights him.

"_Kate_."

Weak fingers finally release their unyielding grip on the white plastic. He knocks it away, lets it tumble to the floor and draws her limp frame into his arms instead. It takes only a moment for her to bury her face into the cradle of his neck. Wet eyelashes flutter against his skin, the tears too quick to stain his neck but the mascara she never took off wears into the creases of his shirt.

"I'm sorry," she gasps painfully on a shallow breath. "I'm so sorry."

He shakes his head at her apology and holds her closer, tries to plug the violent hole tearing in his heart. "Not your fault." It's not. It's not at all.

"I know he wasn't planned, but – " Her voice gives way to a sob that shakes her slender frame violently. "I wanted him so bad, Castle."

He squeezes his eyes shut and presses his face into the scent of her hair. He knows.

He'd wanted their baby too.

Cold fingers slip from his jaw to circle around his neck, tugging at his skin just a little. He pulls back with opening eyes and ducks his head to meet hers. A single tear slips down her cheek from behind the lids that remain closed. His throat closes over.

She hasn't met his eyes since the doctor told them she's not pregnant.

That she was never pregnant to begin with.

The ghost of the doctor's words haunt her features, the lines of her face drained with all of their pain. He slides closer, closer, until he feels her heartbeat drum against his chest and can drop his forehead to kiss hers. She inhales a stuttering breath of air that washes over his lips but she keeps her eyes low and closed.

He curls his forefinger under her chin and gently guides her head upward. Trembling lips kiss away her tears and soft thumbs sweep under the still watering ridges of her eyes.

"Kate." He breathes her name deep, cups her face tenderly between two palms and splays his fingers in smooth reassurance across her skin, a stark contrast to his voice so hoarse. "Kate, I love you." Please, be enough.

The tip of his nose nudges against hers as they drink in one another, try to tamp down on their grief. With a shaky exhale he feels the ghost of everything she can't say whisper across his lips. Loose fingertips curl around his elbow, dance up his forearm and graze across his knuckles before they lace with his in a promise.

She finally opens her eyes.

* * *

It's late when he walks through the door of their new home six months later, shoulders heavy with the long day as he shuffles on aching feet into their bedroom. Black work heels already toed off lay toppled at the foot of their bed and her red coat lays flat across her side.

"Kate?" He pokes his head into the walk-in closet. Empty. Must be somewhere else.

And then the adjoining bathroom door is swinging open, her figure throwing a slender shadow on the ground as the light spills into the dim room. He looks up, finds her smiling face hovering almost nervously in the doorway.

He blinks and speaks slower now. "Kate?"

She draws her lower lip back nervously between her teeth and finally reveals what she holds hidden behind her back.

His heart stops.

Three tests instead of the one false positive she met him with last time.

This time, it's for real.

* * *

**A/N:** I may or may not write what this was originally supposed to be. Stay tuned.

(kellisworld dot tumblr dot com)


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